For my untempered heart

The free ticket. (Time Machine Challenge)

I am surrounded. People of all shapes and sizes are pointed at me like beams of light. The lights bend only slightly when they reach me and then continue, as if they never felt the glitch. I am making my way up some famous street near Times Square. It is almost dark now and the lights begin to wake up for their evening show just as the crowds thicken and deepen. I don’t know why I am here. I felt alone, I suppose. I needed to escape my humming cold-blooded space that allowed any old thought to enter. Feeling the warm bodies brush by me, reminds me that I am not alone here. There are others. I miss my family and so these embodied souls will have to do.

I try to look into the eyes of those who pass me. I offer a warm smile. Some reciprocate, some do not, as if they are too busy to turn up the corner of their mouth. I don’t mind, it makes me laugh. I continue on my mindless path, staying within the crowds and oddly feeling secure there. Every now and then a paper is shoved my way by some fast talker on repeat. I politely decline. I am focused on an adorable little boy ahead of me, whose squishy face is agape at the flashing lights. As I wonder the meaning behind his questioning eyes, I vaguely hear, “Free ticket to where ever you want to go!” I hear it as I would background music, hearing but not really comprehending. It is the jolt of electricity as the paper skims my mid-section, that brings me to the present. My eyes follow the hand connected to the paper and stop at a face that doesn’t seem to belong here. He repeats his mantra while our eyes connect. By some force I can not explain, I accept the paper as the momentum of the crowd pushes me forward. I dismiss the unusual event and slip the paper in my pocket, not wanting to liter.

I am home now. I feel spent. My body is ready for sleep and my mind has raised the white flag in defeat. As I slip off my jeans, I hear the crinkle of paper. I remove the culprit and gently smooth it out between my fingers. It reads only, “Free ticket. Where do you want to go?” I flip it over expecting more, but it is blank. It’s so odd that I am unable to look away. I feel cold now standing here in only my t-shirt, so I quickly tuck myself into bed and under the billowy covers. As I lean back and gently mold into the stack of pillows, I stare at the paper still in my hand. I read it over and over. I feel it almost hypnotizing me; challenging me with its question. Where do you want to go?

Ok, I’ll play along. Where do I want to go? Hmm, Italy sounds lovely. Rolling vineyards, architecture, food so unbelievably fresh yet you can taste its centuries old origin, it is endless and intoxicating. As inviting as that sounds, what would I learn? How would it change my life? There are hundreds upon hundreds of beautiful places I want to visit; I would never be able to choose. Maybe, I should meet a famous person from long ago. I’ve always had a fascination with Henry VIII. Einstein, perhaps? Ghandi? Can I meet Jesus? I can read about them and know their life lessons, so maybe not. How about the future? The future seems frightening; I don’t think I want to know the future. If it’s horrible, how could I enjoy each day knowing my fate, or the fate of the world? A past event? I’ve always felt a deep connection with American Indians. That would be fascinating! But, I can read about that too. I’m feeling a bit frustrated. What is wrong with me that I can not think of a single…wait, I know. I know where I want to go.

I want to be where I will go when I die. If I have lived before, I have actually already been there, but I just don’t remember. If I go to this place, I am everywhere at every time, all in one moment. It is the most perfect choice. I want to remember this place. This place will remind me to have no fear. Remind me that I am never alone. Remind me that all my lost loved ones are still with me. Remind me that I am beautiful and perfect as I am. I can feel it. My tears tickle my nose as they find their path down my face. I feel love. I feel so much love. Am I there?

This is beautifully written! I took the prompt to mean a literal time machine, so I wrote a story about actually traveling through time–I love the idea of being where you are when you die.
Again, beautifully written. 🙂

I have noticed many different approaches on this subject. It is very interesting how we have each perceived this writing challenge. I have really enjoyed it. Thank you so much for your feedback. I sincerely appreciate it!! Happy writing!

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Welcome,

My original focus here was to share my story of divorce, marriage and adultery in hopes to help others heal. In that process, I got a bit lost and detoured from my little sanctuary here for over a year. My heart and the literal joy it receives from bringing thoughts into something almost tangible, has brought me back. I just want to write about whatever lights my fire and whatever helps me grow with the deepest of intentions that someone found just what they were looking for. ❤